


Water at Six am

by findafight



Category: Runaways (Comics), Runaways (TV 2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Early Mornings, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Love, Tumblr Prompt, University parties, did I even write it if they don't hold hands??, hand holding, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 07:57:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13290498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findafight/pseuds/findafight
Summary: Sometime in the morning after a party, both too late and too early to be awake, Chase and Gert have a moment in the kitchen together.





	Water at Six am

**Author's Note:**

> incredibly unoriginal title wow. Based on a tumblr prompt: "It's six am, you are not drinking vodka" and compass pointing to your soulmate au! I'm still deciding on how to organize my fills on ao3... Enjoy!  
> (tw for alcohol mentions)

Chase leans against the kitchen counter and idly traces the fine lines intricately designed to form the ever-moving compass on his skin, pointing him to his soulmate. It glides to point more in front of him smoothly, showing his soulmate is on the move.

He’s still drunk, probably, but entering quickly into the awake but hungover stage of the night. He isn’t sure how late it is, only that it is  _definitely_  early. It’s settled down now, the music turned off a while ago, and people are passed out around the house, which belongs to some guy he knows from cross-training with the basketball team, he thinks, across couches and chairs, even some snuggled into blankets on the floor. He’s dreading trying to find his own corner to curl up in, so for now, the kitchen is where he’ll stay, staying at his Compass.

There’s a huff in front of him, and he looks up.

“Chase. What are you doing up?” she does not sound harsh asking it, though he knew she could, has heard her use words like weapons to hurt and incapacitate, make people feel wrong and small. She rarely does so, only when necessary, or as a defence. She needs neither here, not now, not with him.

Chase is lost to his thoughts and the way Gert’s hair swishes by her shoulders and glints iridescently in the harsh light of the kitchen. She arches an eyebrow, questioning, amused by his dazedness. “Alright. Water for you. It’s six am, you are not drinking vodka anymore.” her hair swoops as she moves to get water, nodding to his side, to the large bottle his hand rests near. He hadn’t realized there was still liquid inside it, nor had he realized it was so late, or early.

She hands him the glass, somehow clean in a sea of empties and dirty solo cups, cool against his fingers. She stays close, eyes soft. She’s still, mostly, comfortable and not anxious, sleepily dishevelled in flannel pants and a t-shirt for a band he knows she doesn’t listen to. He isn’t sure if she’s woken up, or going to bed.

He smiles at her, and asks “So, did you actually have fun tonight—or yesterday, whatever—or are you waiting to rant about the entire night being a waste?” before he begins so sip the water, cool sliding down his throat. Small talk is not Chase’s forte, nor is it Gert’s, but talking with each other is easy, after a shared childhood. Everything between them seems easy.

Huffing a laugh, she tucks hair behind her ear. “I actually had a pretty good time. Karolina and I snagged a bottle of Malibu that belonged to neither of us and spent the night gossiping about people in our classes.” She takes his empty glass and refills it, takes a sip before handing it back. “You have a good time?”

She stands close to him, drifting nearer and nearer, unnoticeable movements except for the closing of space between them. Chase reaches, rests his hands on Gert’s waits. Comfortable, steady, sure. That’s where they are at the moment. Gert rests he hands on his shoulders, familiar with the touch as she is with his. He sighs, tired, but content, and shrugs.

“The more of these things I go to, the more convinced I am that I’m getting old. They’ve seemed to lose their charm to me.”

Gert smiles, fiddles with his hair,  “Imagine that.”

“Yeah, well, a lot of these guys are looking to meet their soulmate, though I’m not sure how getting blackout drunk will help that.”

“Psh, soulmates. An outdated and bougie idea to control the masses and ostracize marginalized groups. You control your own fate.” She says it the same way she’s said it a thousand times before. Tired, resistant, annoyed, but now with a hint of fondness in the mix. Just for him, a joke they share.

Her hand has migrated from his hair to his cheek, and he leans into it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Their voices have been getting quieter and quieter, the closer they’ve gotten to each other.

He reaches up, holds the hand on his cheek in his own, slowly pulls it away to cradle it and turn her wrist up, showing her own compass, pointed straight in front of her, towards him. He runs a thumb over it lightly, she hums. Looking up at her through his lashes, he asks, “And what if you fall in love with your soulmate, all on your own?”

There’s a dusting of pink on her cheeks, sweet and warm in the cold kitchen, always a bit surprised when he tells her. It’s driving force to keep him saying it, never being complacent with his feelings.

“Luck.” is all she says. Whispers it before leaning the short way to him, kissing softly, lovingly. Chase has never gotten used to kissing her, though they’ve done it incalculable times throughout the years. It’s almost always that same feeling of something sliding into place, to make everything a bit better. Not perfect, the world is never perfect, and Chase knows better than most that to strive for perfection will only end in sadness, but kissing Gert is the closest thing he’ll ever get to it.

She holds his face gently with one hand, the other turning in his loose grip to weave their fingers together. It’s a slow kiss, lazy and tired, no rush, a kiss for the sake of kissing the person they love. It is possibly his favourite kind of kiss, though he’d probably say that of any of the kisses when he and Gert share them. It’s just Gert who’s his favourite; for anything, for everything.

He smiles as they pull away, only slightly, resting their foreheads together, gently brushing hair behind her ear. She looks at him, happy, soft, her face telling him of all the love she has and rarely puts into words. It doesn’t matter, he knows, she’ll tell him when she’s ready.

She licks her lips slightly, wetting them. “Bed? We should sleep.”

She pulls farther away, he knows it’s so that it’s easier to move, but he misses the contact anyway. He groans, remembering the lack of any decent places to sleep. “Gross, six am floor sleep.”

Smirking, she tugs his hand to get him to move forward, follow her. “Lucky for you, Karo and I saved a bedroom easy on, and she decided the closet-ironically-was the place for her tonight. We get a bed.”

Chase is pretty sure, if he wasn’t already madly in love with her, he would have fallen then and there. As it is, he grins sappily at her as she guides him to the room, and says “Did you know, you are my favourite person?”

She glances over her shoulder, and he tries to wink but is pretty sure he just blinks given her eye roll. He looks at their wrists, both with compasses. Hers points straight back behind her and his directs him forward, both pointing the way to someone they’ve already found.

**Author's Note:**

> This. turned out. very soft. I love them. Thanks for sending prompts, I'm totally working on them (maybe all at once which is why...it takes a while.  
> :) thank you all for your support! As always, kudos, comment, and/or hit up [my tumblr](https://findafight.tumblr.com/) to let me know what you thought and to talk about stuff.


End file.
